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Love in the Guise of Friendship.1



YOUR friendship much can make me blest,
O why that bliss destroy!

Why urge the only, one request
You know I will deny!

Your thought, if Love must harbour there,
Conceal it in that thought;

Nor cause me from my bosom tear
The very friend I sought.

Sweet Bird, and sooth my Care.2

For thee is laughing Nature gay,
For thee she pours the vernal day;
For me in vain is Nature drest,
While Joy's a stranger to my breast.

Clarinda, Mistress of my Soul.3

CLARINDA, mistress of my soul,
The measur'd time is run!
The wretch beneath the dreary pole
So marks his latest sun.

To what dark cave of frozen night
Shall poor Sylvander hie;
Depriv'd of thee, his life and light,
The sun of all his joy.

1 A sequel to lines by Mrs M'Lehose. 2 Again, an addition to lines by the same lady.

The glimmering planet, if Miss Armour is meant, did "fix" Burns.

In Thomson's collection, after

Burns's death, two lines are altered: the song begins with "Farewell, dear mistress of my heart," and the second line of verse 2 is "Shall your poor wand'rer hie."


We part-but by these precious drops,
That fill thy lovely eyes,

No other light shall guide my steps,
Till thy bright beams arise!

She, the fair sun of all her sex,
Has blest my glorious day;
And shall a glimmering planet fix
My worship to its ray?

I'm o'er Young to Marry yet.1

Chorus.—I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young,
I'm o'er young to marry yet;
I'm o'er young, 'twad be a sin
To tak me frae my mammy yet.

⚫ only child.

I AM my mammy's ae bairn,a
Wi' uncob folk I weary, sir;
And lying in a strange bed,

I'm fley'd it mak me eerie,d sir.
I'm o'er young, &c.

Hallowmass is come and gane,

The nights are lang in winter, sir,
And you an' I in ae bed,

In trowth, I dare na venture, sir.
I'm o'er young, &c.


Fu' loud an' shill the frosty wind
Blaws thro' the leafless timmer, sir;
But if ye come this gate again,

I'll aulder be gin simmer, sir.
I'm o'er young, &c.

b strange.

1 Lines for music, in Johnson's Museum, for which Burns wrote most

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of the pieces immediately following.

To the Weavers gin ye go.1

My heart was ance as blithe and free
As simmer days were lang;
But a bonie, westlin weaver lad
Has gart me change my sang.

Chorus-To the weaver's gin ye go, fair maids,
To the weaver's gin ye go;

I rede you right, gang ne'er at night,
To the weaver's gin ye go.

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But what was said, or what was done,
Shame fa' me gin I tell ;

But Oh! I fear the kintra soon
Will ken as weel's mysel!
To the weaver's, &c.

M'Pherson's Farewell.1

Tune-"M'Pherson's Rant."

FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch's destinie!
M'Pherson's time will not be long
On yonder gallows-tree.

Chorus.-Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he;

He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round,
Below the gallows-tree.

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M'Pherson was hanged in Banff in 1700 (Scott Douglas).

Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright,
And all beneath the sky!

May coward shame distain his name,
The wretch that dare not die!
Sae rantingly, &c.

Stay my Charmer.1

Tune-"An gille dubh ciar-dhubh.”

STAY my charmer, can you leave me!
Cruel, cruel to deceive me;

Well you know how much you grieve me;
Cruel charmer, can you go!

Cruel charmer, can you go!

By my love so ill-requited,
By the faith you fondly plighted,
By the pangs of lovers slighted,
Do not, do not leave me so!
Do not, do not leave me so!

Song-My Hoggie.2

WHAT Will I do gin my Hoggie die?
My joy, my pride, my Hoggie!
My only beast, I had nae mae,


And vow but I was vogie!

The lee-lang night we watch'd the fauld,
Me and my faithfu' doggie;

We heard nocht but the roaring linn,d
Amang the braes sae scroggie.

But the houlet' cry'd frae the castle wa',
The blitter frae the boggie;
The tod1 reply'd upon the hill,

I trembled for my Hoggie.

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